


thnks fr th mrs

by Yellow



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Gen, M/M, im deeply sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-01-07 09:49:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12230445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yellow/pseuds/Yellow
Summary: Hadrian thinks this year will go pretty well. Bad news is (good news?) he's about to meet Hella Varal.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> uhhh hi this is the first chapter of the au i've been threatening for ages and it's like the dumbest most self indulgent thing i've ever written  
> second chapter possibly never, i have no idea where the fuck this is going. please enjoy my bad jokes

Hadrian is pretty sure this semester'll be fine. Sophomore year, right. He knows where the Starbucks is, he knows which library's his favorite, he doesn't have to live in the shittiest dorms on campus. Things are gonna go great, he can feel it.

 

And for the first day or so, things go pretty well. “Pretty well,” as in, he gets an email from his hero asking to meet tomorrow afternoon, on the first day of classes.

Alyosha raises an eyebrow.

“What does Samothes want with you?”

Hadrian puts down his box of room decorations-pictures of his family, his friends, his high school girlfriend, Rosana, his dog, Benjamin- and leans against the loft bed.

“I don't know,” Hadrian says. “You think he finally got my emails?”

Alyosha smiles a little, gentle. Alyosha's nice.

“You know he's one of those bad-professor, good-researcher types.” Hadrian deflates a little and Alyosha says, “He's a genius, and he's why I'm here too, but don't get too worked up, okay?”

“Okay,” Hadrian says, and he hangs up a poster of a football.

 

The meeting is at 4, so Hadrian shows up at 3:15, just to be sure. He's a little nervous, okay, this was just the best religious studies professor in the world and he wanted to talk to Hadrian-what if it was a research position? Hadrian  _ did _ do really well in his class last semester, and even though it was a lecture hall, the TA loved him, so maybe he mentioned Hadrian's name or something.

The office door swings open.

Samot is blond, tall, really, really pretty, and definitely not in the religious studies department.

He steps out and sees Hadrian.

“Oh, Hadrian!”

“You know my name?” Hadrian asks.

“I read your paper in the undergraduate research journal, on the distance of God from man in the Old Testament,” Samot says. “It was very well-reasoned.”

Hadrian blushes. “Thank you.”

“The philosophy department would love to have you,” he says, and winks.

“Oh, but I love religious studies,” Hadrian says.

“Just, ah,” Samot says, rummaging in his bag. “Just keep an open mind.” He takes a pencil and a slip of paper out of his bag and hands them to Hadrian. The pencil's white and covered with faux fur; the paper says, “Go WILD-join the philosophy department!!!” He winks again and starts to walk away.

“Uh, thanks!” Hadrian calls after him. “I didn't know you were friends with Professor Samothes.”

Samot laughs and keeps walking, waving as he goes.

And then the door to Samothes's office is open and the man himself is sitting there, right in front of Hadrian.

Samothes is notorious for having limited office hours, and even when Hadrian tries to attend, he isn't there. Primo was a great TA but it wasn't the same as having the foremost expert right there. And now, he is, and he'd called  _ Hadrian. _

“You're early,” Samothes says, and smiles at him. “Come on in.”

 

“Hella Varal?” Hadrian asks.

“Yes,” Samothes says, standing and leaning on the desk. “She's transferring from Nacre and as one of our star students, I thought you could help her transition into life here.”

Hadrian beams.

“Of course!”

“Good,” Samothes says, and smiles again. Up close, he has the kind of smile that makes you feel warm, just by looking at it. “I'll be counting on you to guide her well.”

Hadrian stands in a rush.

“Yes, sir.”

Samothes claps him on the shoulder.

“Thank you, Hadrian. See you in class.”

“Thank  _ you _ ,” Hadrian says, and runs out of the office.

 

“So he got you to babysit some Nacre transfer student and you started crying in joy?” Ephrim says, peeling back the foil on his burrito.

Somewhere along the line, Ephrim and Hadrian’d set up a weekly Chipotle date without even talking about it. Hadrian goes to the student center that Wednesday at noon automatically at this point.

Hadrian picks at his burrito. Chicken, mild salsa, no guac. Ephrim gets chorizo and everything else they can manage to stuff in there.

“I didn't  _ cry _ ,” Hadrian says, and Ephrim rolls his eyes. “But,” he says, dreamy, “he called me a star student.”

“Okay, fine, that's pretty good,” Ephrim admits. He pauses. “And you saw Samot coming out of his office?”

“Yeah,” Hadrian says. “Did you know they were friends?”

Ephrim sighs.

“I heard they got caught making out in the religious studies copy room a few days ago.”

“Oh,” Hadrian says.

“Yeah, 'oh,'” Ephrim says, and sighs again. “A loss for all of us. Samothes is taken.”

Hadrian blinks. “You're twenty.”

“I never expected anything to  _ happen _ ,” Ephrim says. “That would be gross. It's just about the fantasy of his availability.”

“Okay,” Hadrian says, desperately confused. There's a silence as both of them take a bite.

“I think Throndir is single,” Hadrian says.

“Hmm. You think he could pick me up?”

“Like, get a date with you? I think that depends on you.”

“No, I mean, like. Physically.”

“Uh,” Hadrian says, and Ephrim groans.

“Never mind.”

Hadrian doesn't need more info. He takes a bite of his burrito.

 

Alyosha is lying on his bed texting someone when Hadrian walks in.

“What's up?”

Alyosha jumps.

“Oh, nothing. Oh,” he says, “I should get studying, right?” He smiles and tucks a strand of blond hair behind his ear.

“You okay?”

“Yes!” Alyosha says, grabbing a notebook. “See you tonight!”

Well. Hella was arriving soon, so he'd try and get to the bottom of that later.

 

Hella Varal is six feet of bronze skin and muscle. She’s devastatingly hot. She’s maybe the most terrifying woman Hadrian’s ever met. And Samothes is counting on him.

Hadrian puffs up his chest and holds out a hand.

“Hadrian,” he says. She shakes his hand, firm, and surprisingly none of his fingers break.

“Hella,” she says. “What's with you?”

“I'm supposed to show you around,” Hadrian says, thrown off.

“Okay, I guess,” she says. “Sure.”

That's good enough for Hadrian.

He starts marching towards the dining hall.

“So you're from Nacre?”

“Actually, I'm from Ordenna,” she says.

“Oh, so were you studying abroad in Nacre?” Hadrian says. “You're a real go-getter.”

“I guess,” Hella says.

“Well, why'd you decide to come here?”

Hadrian finally looks at her and her face is drawn.

“Didn't want to be there anymore,” she says, an edge of warning to it.

Great. Great. This is great.

“Well,” Hadrian says, a little high-pitched, “Velas is great! We have fish? Do you like fish?”

Hella grunts.

“Well if you like fish,” he says, winking, “the dining hall's the place to be.” Okay, back on track. Hadrian's got this. Hadrian's the best tour guide ever.

He keeps walking. Hella trails behind, shoulders hunched.

“There's the chemistry building. And there's the place where the weird old guy with the guitar sits.”

“What?”

“He's a campus fixture, it's fine. There,” Hadrian says, pointing, “is the religious studies building.” He waits.

“Okay?” Hella says.

“Aren't you...studying religious studies?”

“No?” Hella stares at him. “I'm studying sports medicine?”

Hadrian stares back.

“Well,” he says. “Okay, I guess.”

Hadrian leads them, a little slower, to the medical school, passing by the anthropology building. He spots Lem and Fero walking their direction, so he waves them down.

“Hey! Lem!” Hadrian yells. “Fero!”

He turns a little bit.

“This is great, you can meet some more-”

All the blood's rushed out of Hella's face, and Fero is coming at them like he's on the warpath, Lem following close behind.

“You!” Fero says.

“Hi, Hella,” Lem says, twisting his fingers together.

Hella says nothing. Hadrian stares.

“Wait. What? How do you three know each other?”

Lem looks like he wants to run off and hide, but that's fairly common, so Hadrian doesn't read too much into it. Fero looks angry, but well-

“Lem and I studied abroad in Nacre,” Fero says, glaring daggers. “And she-”

“Okay!” Lem says. “Okay, great to see you both, see you later!” And he pulls Fero away by the hand.

Hella looks upset and guilty and angry all at once. Hadrian coughs.

She glares at him. “Where's the gym.”

“Uh,” Hadrian says. “That way?”

“We're going,” she says, and starts walking.

“I don't really have gym clothes.”

“Shut up.”

There's a silence that stretches so long it almost passes awkward and gets back to comfortable.

“There's a big welcome back to school party tonight,” Hadrian. “You know. Unofficial.”

Hella stares at him.

“There'll be like. PBR. You know. If you want a drink.”

“Okay,” Hella says, weakly. “What time?”

“Ten?”

“Okay.” They stop at the entrance to the gym and Hadrian shuffles his feet.

“I really  _ don't  _ have gym clothes-”

“Yeah,” Hella says, scrubbing her face with her hand. “You're released; I'll see you later.”

“Yeah,” Hadrian says. “Okay.”

He supposes it could have gone worse.

  
  


“How's Hella?” Alyosha asks, perching on his loft bed.

“I think the whole thing went okay,” Hadrian says. “She seems to know a few people here.”

“That's good.” Alyosha won't stop checking his phone for new messages.

“If you wanna meet her, I think we’re going to this party tonight,” Hadrian says. “I don’t think it’ll get too crazy, if you just wanna dip your toe in.”

“I can’t come. I have a date tonight.” Alyosha blushes a little bit.

“With who?”

“You know that philosophy major? Older than us? Samot’s prodigy?” Alyosha tucks a piece of hair behind his ear, smiling. 

Hadrian’s heard Samot has a TA he treats like shit, but...wait.

“You're dating vape guy?” In the past few days, he’s already become a campus fixture. He lurks outside the library and vapes in-between classes. 

“He only vapes because I was worried for his health,” Alyosha says, prim. “Cigarettes are much worse.”

“Oh my god,” Hadrian says.

“Tutor is a good man, Hadrian.”

“Wait, is his name Tutor or do you just call him that?”

Alyosha doesn't answer.

“Is it, like, a sex thing?”

Alyosha smiles. Hadrian decides to stop asking.

He pulls on a clean polo.

“Have fun on your date,” he calls, and leaves the dorm, writing “OUT” under the Hadrian column on their whiteboard.

 

Time to party.


	2. the party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hadrian invites hella to the big unofficial welcome back party. things don't go well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to emily who told me to work on this! happy college, kid
> 
> like last time chapter 3 may never come but this is fun i think and worth posting...i hope you enjoy :)  
> did your school have a big frat scene that went wild the first weekend back? mine did!

The party is just fine at first.   
  


Ephrim’s there, tossing his lighter up and down in a way that makes Hadrian worry he’ll accidentally flick it on and burn himself. Hadrian tried to warn him not to once and got such a blistering look back that he never tried again.

So now he just sits and fidgets. He thinks about seeing Samot. He still has the pencil laid out in a place of honor on his desk, unsharpened, pristine.

“What did you think of Samot’s class last semester?”

Ephrim rolls his eyes.

“He’s as hot as he thinks he is but it’s still obnoxious.”

Hadrian pauses to process this. “Did you like the readings?”

Ephrim tosses the lighter above his head and catches it. 

“Too depressing,” he says, finally. “Why?” 

“Oh, Hella’s here, I’d better say hi,” Hadrian says, backing away. Ephrim raises an eyebrow, flicks the lighter on and off.

“Suit yourself.”

 

Hadrian doesn't actually see Hella but he does see Lem and Fero, so he heads over to them. Fero's either brought his own Chinese food or is hoarding a communal carton of noodles. Lem looks a little buzzed.

“Hadrian!”

“Hey, Fero,” he says, and sits down. “How's it going?”

“Pretty good,” Fero says. “Got some noodles, got the boyfriend here, got half an environmental studies degree, can't complain. Well,” he says, considering, “a bird pooped on me today, so I could complain? But I'm not gonna.”

“What was all that with Hella?” Hadrian asks.

“Oh, God,” Lem says, but this time Fero just shrugs, a bitter twist to his mouth.

“Difference of opinion.”

“I didn't know you two knew her.”

“Nacre's pretty small, for a trading port of its importance,” Lem says, a faraway look in his eye.

“Plus, we were all going to school together.” Fero takes a big bite of noodles.

“You know her already, why couldn't you two help her around?” Hadrian grumbled. “She's not even a religious studies major, turns out.”

“Well, we were there with her, so it's not the same. She's used to us,” Fero says, in a reasonable tone.

Hadrian nods along for a second, then says, “Wait, that has nothing to do with anything.”

Lem folds and unfolds his hands. “I think Fero means that it's a chance for her to meet new people.”

“Yeah, that!” Fero says, gesturing wildly with his chopsticks.

Hadrian remembers Hella’s face, when she saw Lem and Fero. 

“Is she-is she always like that?”

“No,” Lem says, “sometimes she gets in bad moods, too.”

“Great,” Hadrian says.

“Like, don't bring up Nacre again,” Fero says. “Like, reallyyyy don't bring up Nacre.”

“Too late,” Hadrian, says, grimacing.

There's a pained sigh of sympathy from both Lem and Fero.

“Man, Nacre sucked,” Fero says. He turns to Lem. “It's all your fault we went, anyway.”

“What?” Lem asks.

“Yeah, you wanted to 'study some ancient bullshit, Fero, it's very important to me,'” Fero says, deepening his voice to approximate Lem's. “And I wasn't going to let my  _ boyfriend _ just run off to who-knows-where without me!”

“We weren't dating back then?” Lem ventures, timid. Hadrian is watching the argument like a tennis match.

“Oh, yeah, nice excuse for  _ cheating on me _ .”

“What,” Lem squeaks.

Fero points the chopsticks at him, noodles flopping dangerously, all five-foot-two of rage.

“You know. The bread guy. Emmanuel.”

“We weren't-could we talk about this somewhere else,” Lem pleads.

“No,” Fero says, indignant, “I think we need witnesses for this. I left behind  _ everything  _ for your dumb anthropology degree, and-”

“I know,” Lem says. He takes Fero's hand, and Fero's eyes get very wide. Hadrian thinks he's blushing. “Thank you for coming. I would have been very nervous without you.”

And then Fero is in Lem's lap, kissing him, shitty chow mein forgotten. Hadrian takes the opportunity to make a swift exit.

Hella’s still not there. Adaire is, and from the looks of it she’s both very drunk and also hustling a group of frat bros at beer pong. Hadrian thinks about intervening before deciding he’s more scared of Adaire than the frat. So he grabs a PBR, casual, tries to enter three different conversations unsuccessfully, and then makes a tactical retreat to the corner. 

He nurses the beer. 

It’s really not  _ so  _ bad. Hadrian’s more of a wine guy, he guesses. His parents let him have one glass on holidays and that’s pretty good. The first time he tried beer he almost spat it out on the frat bro who handed it to him.

But he can do this! He’s at a Real Party, drinking a Real Beer, and he’s gonna be  _ so  _ welcoming to Hella Samothes will have to love him. Like him. Whatever.

 

Nobody misses when Hella gets there. 

She’s big and loud and  _ hot _ and new and everyone watches her as she cuts through the crowd.

Hella gives him a grin when she sees him.

“Hadrian!”

He shuffles to his feet and nods at her, raising his beer in her direction. A little foam sloshes out and he drinks it, hurried. 

When he looks up Hella looks like she’s on the verge of laughing at him.

“What?” he says, but she just shakes her head.

“So. Party.”

“Yeah,” Hadrian says. “Party.”

He wracks his brain. Can’t take her to meet Lem and Fero. Maybe Ephrim? Or-

“You can’t play by yourself!”

Adaire raises an eyebrow.

“I’m going to thrash you anyway.”  

“Shit,” Hella says, and pushes through the crowd.

“Need a partner?”

Adaire looks her up and down. 

“Now I do,” she says. “You any good at beer pong?”

“Nope.” Hella’s grinning.

“Doesn’t matter,” Adaire says, and she’s grinning too.

Hadrian watches for a moment and then turns away, proud. Hella’s first friend. Even if she is the most terrifying woman Hadrian’s ever met. He wanders away, gets another beer. By the time he’s done he hears shouting-what sounds like Hella’s voice-

Hadrian can’t part the crowds like Hella can but he does well enough. 

He rounds the corner and hears someone say, “You gonna break my leg too?”

The “table,” such that it was, is taken apart, the wooden top thrown aside and the concrete blocks fallen. One of the guys they were playing against is covered in PBR.

And then Hadrian sees Hella. Flushed and a little teary-eyed. He starts forward.

Hella takes out a knife.

“Oh my god,” Hadrian says, and rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet like he wants to interfere but isn't sure how.

Adaire appears from behind Hella, looking a lot less drunk than she did a minute ago. Hadrian wonders if it's an act or if she puked or something.

“We’re fighting?” she says, cool, and starts patting her sides, looking for something.

“No! No we are not!” Hadrian yelps, flailing his arms and edging closer. He looks around. “Throndir!”

Guy's got good ears, because he lopes up in a minute or so. Kodiak's there, of course.

The thing about Throndir is-for a guy who's high ninety percent of the time he doesn't miss much. And he can be one scary motherfucker. He sees Hella's knife and he calmly walks between her and the assholes yelling at her.

 

Hadrian would swear, later, to Ephrim that he'd gotten dizzy for just a moment, that Throndir had done  _ something  _ to get them all to back off, but Ephrim wouldn't buy it.

“Reading too many fairy tales, Hadrian,” he'd say, and take a bite of his burrito, haughtily.

 

But something changes, even if it’s just the look in Throndir's eyes or his giant dog, and the guys back off.

One spits. Hella growls, low, and Throndir puts a hand on her arm. She relaxes, slow.

Throndir turns to them and smiles, a little strained.

“Hey guys.”

“Hella,” Hadrian hisses. “I'm supposed to be looking after you. What the fuck happened.”

“I never asked for that,” Hella says, “and those guys were being dicks, what  _ else  _ was I supposed to do. All we did was win, fair and square.”

“Use your words?” Throndir says, hopeful.

Hella rolls her eyes and stomps off. Adaire follows.

“Great. Well that went great,” Hadrian says. He sighs, puts a hand on Throndir's shoulder.

“Thanks buddy.”

“No problem,” Throndir says. Pauses. “Wanna go get high?”

Hadrian very much does.

 

The thing about smoking weed for the second time ever is that Hadrian is ready for the looseness, the off-kilterness, the giggles, but he can't control any of it.

So when he stumbles into his dorm hallway and sees Arrell coming out of his room, Hadrian loses it.

“Vape guy!”

“Hadrian,” Arrell says, curt, pulling on his leather jacket.

“Have a good date?” Hadrian asks, and collapses into the wall, giggling.

Arrell rolls his eyes and pulls Hadrian up to lean on him.

“You're lucky Alyosha likes you,” he mumbles, and drags Hadrian into the room.

Alyosha is shirtless, changing into pajamas.

He slowly turns around.

Arrell is bright red.

“Uh-your roommate, he-”

Hadrian giggles and clambers onto the bed.

“Kissss already,” he says, and closes his eyes.

He hears some shuffling and squints, and-

“I didn't  _ mean  _ it,” he complains, and Alyosha laughs and says he's going to walk Arrell out.

If he comes back that night Hadrian doesn't hear him. His bed is comfy and he's pretty glad he didn't get stabbed. It takes no time at all to fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me trying to escape my flesh body @capricioustube

**Author's Note:**

> find me @capricioustube on twitter.


End file.
